Legends of Dalton Academy
by KurtandBlaineGleek
Summary: After finding a legend in a Dalton Historical book, Blaine decides to break into the attic. Will he discover the truth of what happened to a beautiful boy from 1911? Eventual Klaine! Rated for safety! Please R&R!
1. Prologue

**A/N: I am aware that I fail epically at not starting new projects that aren't one-shots or collabs but I have so many ideas that buzz through my brain that I have to get them down. So, I hope you enjoy this. This is short I know, but it's just the prologue and will basically set up the story. :) Since this is so short, I'm going to go start on the first actual chapter so some action can get going as this chapter is written as an excerpt from a book.**

**Disclaimer: We all know now that I don't own Glee but with all these awesome ideas bubbling in my head, it would have interesting plots, yes?**

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><p><em>The following in an excerpt from the manuscript The History of Dalton Academy, chapter fifteen: Legends, page two hundred and seventy-three.<em>

**Encased In Porcelain**

Some legends date back years and others were more recent. This particular legend, again one that still has not been proven either true or false, dates back to the year 1911 and a boy by the name of Kurt Hummel.

Kurt was always different from his peers. See figure 15.9 on the opposite page for a physical photo.

But the real truth about Kurt was that he was a homosexual, something not really learned well of and certainly not accepted in that day and age. Kurt was shunned by his peers, and attended a regular public high school before his family transferred him to Dalton Academy. At that day and age, Dalton did not have its elusive zero tolerance no-bullying policy and still, Kurt was shunned. But it was not for being gay. The other boys simply found no interest in the very odd outlandish boy who had joined their number.

As such, Kurt roomed alone.

One of the things few people know about Dalton Academy is that the school does in fact have an attic. The doors that lead up to the attic from the fourth floor of the dorm building have been blocked off for years. In 1911, students were free to wander up there. It became a popular sanctuary for quiet study, as odd as it sounded. And it was the one place a student could disappear to where they would not be caught if out of bed after curfew.

This attic became one of Kurt's many sanctuaries and after sometime, the other boys gradually stopped going up there because Kurt would be there so often. He didn't mind. He preferred the few interruptions he got when hiding up in the attic.

It is a well-known fact that it was precisely in that year, 1911, that the stairway to the attic was barricaded and locked until further notice. Further notice apparently turned into indefinitely.

This is where our legend begins. For you see, it surrounds Kurt and the attic.

Unlike many of the other legends in the book, this one had no eyewitness accounts, which is the reason why it can be neither proven, nor disproved. And since no one has set foot in the attic since the day it happened, no one knows exactly what went on. The only physical means of evidence is a genuine porcelain puppet manufactured in the year 1902. This puppet belonged to Kurt.

The legend goes thus. Kurt apparently never went anywhere without that puppet. The puppet was like an extra pair of eyes. It was eerie and creepy and gave many of the other students a very daunting feeling of dread. There was something about that puppet that did not settle well. And that was one of the reasons why no on tried to befriend Kurt.

At first, the puppet seemed to be just that, a puppet, a creepy one, but a puppet all the same. But than, many of the students started noticing odd things and reporting things that were entirely impossible. Some believed that when Kurt Hummel had moved into Dalton, he had brought ghosts and demons with him. Others thought it actually had nothing to do with Kurt, but with the puppet itself. For it were the puppet that displayed the oddities and the puppet alone.

There was one point at which Dalton had tried to give Kurt a roommate, after another boy made a transfer into the school. The boy lasted one weekend before requesting to be moved. And he was terribly stark white when he made that ominous request.

His account states that Kurt had gone home to visit his family for the weekend and had chosen to leave the puppet behind. Apparently, this did not sit well. The student in question reported that when he fell asleep the first night, the puppet was sitting propped on Kurt's neatly made bed. But only hours into sleep he got the dreaded feeling that he was being watched. Cropping one eye, he insists that he came to find the puppet sitting beside him on the bed and staring at him.

It frightened the boy certainly but when asked if that were so true, why didn't he get out of there sooner, he replied that he had an overactive imagination and admitted to fearing that puppet the moment he saw it. He had decided he'd been dreaming. But when the same thing happened the second night, only worse with him waking to find the puppet physically sitting on him, he started doubting his initial thoughts. He transferred out of the room the next day.

When Kurt returned to Dalton that evening, he never even knew he'd had a roommate.

One particular day, several witnesses noted Kurt leaving his dorm on the fourth floor, puppet in his arms, and heading up the stairs to the attic. This was a common occurrence so no one thought much of it.

That was the last time anyone ever saw Kurt. He seemed to just simply vanish and when he did not show up in classes nor return to his dorm room, an investigation was launched but no one thought to even look up in the attic. However, when they got his dorm room open, they found that the puppet was sitting upon his bed, a positively satisfyingly evil expression on its stationary face.

The rumor mill states that the puppet was more than a puppet and it is responsible first hand for whatever happened to Kurt. Some of the boys claimed that Kurt seemed to be slowly developing stiffness in his limbs. He was starting to walk funny and at times they felt his eyes didn't even look real, more like glass, like those of the puppet. The best guess is that the puppet somehow turned Kurt into a porcelain doll.

Many people don't believe it but there is no proof. The only way to know exactly what happened to Mr. Hummel is to venture up into the attic. No one has set one foot up those stairs since the day Kurt disappeared.

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><p><strong>AN: So there you go, the prologue of this new idea! Reviews always make me smile and keep me writing! I think I'll spend my St. Patrick's Day trying to update stuff but I'm a get the first actual chapter at least started right now. Let me know what you thought! Love you guys!**


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: Okay, so I had to crash before finishing the first chapter, so here it is now. :) I finished it up when I got up so you all could read it! Just a little of Blaine breaking rules and discovery of complications I guess you could say. It sets kind of a mood for the flow of the rest of the story. That said, thank you so much for all your reviews, favorites, and alerts! I'm so happy that you're all so interested in the idea! Enjoy chapter one. I'm going try and crank out a chapter for something else now. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee. It belongs to RIB. Maybe they'll sell me the rights? If they do, I can assure you no Klaine breakups! That would be too sad.**

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><p>A curly-haired boy stood nervously tapping his foot and glancing over his shoulder, willing the copy machine in the library to hurry the hell up. The last thing he needed was for one of his friends to find him copying a spread from a history book. But it wasn't just any history book. It was <em>The History of Dalton Academy<em>. Oddly enough, only one copy of this book existed in the entire school. It was in the reference section of the library and it was not available for checkout so any student who wanted to peruse the information they found in it further, had to copy it off.

But the curly-haired boy, whose name was Blaine Anderson was not copying anything that he could use for his history assignment. In fact, his history assignment had nothing to do with the history of his school at all.

Blaine had simply been shifting through the reference books, looking for something that could help him when he'd come across it. He wasn't sure how he had never seen the book before but it intrigued him so much so that he had forgotten his history assignment and elected to look through this book on Dalton's history instead.

Curiosity burning within the boy, he had opted to just open the book at random and see what he came across.

The first thing that he found when he opened the book, was an old black and white photograph of the most beautiful boy Blaine had ever seen in his life. The boy in the photo had a very slight closed mouth smile on his face and he was staring up at Blaine from page two hundred and seventy-four.

Unable to hide his sudden interest, Blaine had flipped his eyes to facing page and lost himself in the story written there.

Apparently, it was in the Legends chapter. It was a story of a boy named Kurt Hummel, who in 1911 had gone up to the attic and never been seen again.

Well, Blaine's curiosity had been driven. He was aware that the stairs to the attic had been blocked off for a very long time and now that he found this legend, he had an idea why.

Intrigue in the story had become so great in a matter of minutes, not to mention his fascination with the picture of the boy who was Kurt Hummel that Blaine had immediately made up his mind. He was going to solve this mystery once and for all. That entitled one thing. Blaine would have to break into the attic.

Trying not to think of that right than, he sighed heavily in frustration. For a private school with elegance and fancy décor, they sure couldn't get a decent copier.

Finally, after what felt like ages, the machine ran off the spread of the story.

"About time," Blaine muttered, snatching up the pages. He glanced over his shoulder a second time and pulled the book from the copier, snapping it shut carefully before trotting back over to the shelf and replacing it with the other reference books.

"Blaine!" called a voice. The curly-haired boy hastily folded the story and shoved it into his messenger bag just in time to see his best friends Wes and David enter the library. "There you are! We've been looking all over for you!"

A small smile crossed Blaine's face. "Sorry Wes. I was doing research. History assignment." Although that was originally the truth, Wes did not seem to believe him. The Asian boy frowned.

"Research Blaine? Really? I should hit you with my gavel!"

"Yes research. Now if you don't mind, I think I'll retreat to my room to work on that assignment."

Wes and David watched him hurry out, not at all getting a chance to protest and both wondering why he was in such a hurry to get to work on that assignment. But neither of them thought to run after him. Because of Blaine's odd behavior, both boys had forgotten what they'd wanted him for in the first place, even though the exchange had been quite brief.

They shrugged and left the library.

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><p>Several hours later, night had fallen and it was well after curfew. The Dalton boys were trusted so thoroughly that there were never any patrols at night, whether they are in the dorm building or the main school. That was a lucky break for Blaine.<p>

Speaking of the boy, he was currently standing in front of the doors that led to the attic. He was dressed fully in black, black polo shirt, black skinny jeans, and black shoes. He'd even pulled a black beanie onto his head. He felt real authentic. But he was also starting to have second thoughts about doing this now. Or at least, wondering if he should have let in Wes and David so he wouldn't have to do it alone. Though knowing them, they probably would have tried to talk him out of it.

The only reason he was feeling this fear and doubt now, despite being so determined earlier, was because of the odd events that had happened when he'd returned to his room.

Blaine had made a massive discovery after entering the room, when rushing back from the library. It was like something knew. Something knew what he was planning on attempting that night.

He had only managed to catch his breath when he got the sudden feeling he was being watched. Resting against the door to his room, Blaine had allowed his eyes to wander the room. They brushed over the vacant side, seeing as he had no roommate – which Wes and David thought he was lucky for – and came right around to rest on Blaine's own bed.

What he saw made his heart stop.

There was a puppet sitting propped on Blaine's bed. It was clearly very antique. Dirt marred what much have original been a delicate light wood face. Though Blaine could still make out the rosy cheek through the dinginess the covered the service. The hair, which he saw was not of the realistic variety, needed a repaint badly. It was chipping at the top of the head. The eyes were a piercing green color, glassy and staring. And the mouth was redder than any puppet's mouth Blaine had ever seen. The clothes were vintage 1900s, a tailored suit topped off with a little red bowtie. They too, were dingy with dirt from age.

There had been no doubt in Blaine's mind that this puppet had once belonged to Kurt Hummel. But what it was doing sitting on his bed, Blaine had no idea at first. But only seconds later, it seemed to click.

Kurt's room. He was in the room that had once been Kurt's.

And that was the reason why Blaine was having second thoughts. He figured that maybe if he took himself out of this equation and forgot about it, that puppet would go away. But where the hell had it come from in the first place?

He knew though that since it had shown up out of nowhere, he couldn't very well back up now. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, making sure the halls were empty.

Swallowing, Blaine took a pin from his pocket and went to work on the lock that held the chains that barricaded the door. If someone asked him how he knew how to pick locks, Blaine wouldn't be able to tell them. It was just a skill he had picked up, probably from a phase when he was younger during which he had the brief desire to indulge in magic and suddenly became fascinated with escape artists and examining the work of one Harry Houdini. His parents were relieved that phase of his life had been short-lived, even though Blaine still enjoyed watching magic and stuff.

Keeping one ear open for the sound of footsteps and the other for the click of the lock, Blaine worked as quietly as he could. He didn't want to draw attention with the little ticks and nicks of twisting the pin in the lock. Some of the boys had real good hearing and weren't very heavy sleepers.

Tongue poking out of his mouth, he worked just a bit faster. Finally, he heard the lock click and he pulled it down, swinging it around and lifting it off the chain. "Yes," he whispered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. The chains fell to the floor and Blaine knelt to set the lock beside them.

For a moment Blaine just stood there staring at the door, before he drew a breath and pushed it open.

The stairs creaked under his weight and Blaine cringed. But of course they would. No one had set foot on these stairs in a century. He stopped, thinking quickly, and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, tying it around his mouth. No way was he going to let dust fill his lungs.

Slowly but surely, Blaine ascended the stairs. And though he was going slowly he found that he seemed to reach the attic floor in no time at all. Reaching into his other pocket, he produced a small flashlight. Drawing another breath, he switched it on.

At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. There were few boxes seeing as the space had once been used by students and hadn't been accessed since the day Kurt disappeared. Due to this fact, it was mostly bare, aside from a table and some chairs set up for comfortable studying.

To Blaine's surprise, there was actually a large bay window and window seat and the curly-haired boy suddenly realized that he'd seen it from the outside of the building.

It was there that he found the life-size form slumped against the wall. With the beam of the light, he could make out the Dalton uniform, rather dusty, on the figure.

Oh good God! Blaine's immediate fear was that he had just found a body, perhaps the body of one Kurt Hummel. Mystery solved. He could go now. But he didn't move.

Somehow, Blaine got the feeling that it wasn't a dead body. How would Kurt have died? And if he was killed, surely he would have screamed and someone would have heard it right? Right. Details didn't add up to him being dead. Hell, Blaine wasn't even sure yet that it was Kurt.

He crept closer, knowing that he needed to know for sure. The flashlight beam lit on the figure's arm and Blaine traveled the light down it to where it came to rest on a pale hand. Blaine stopped. It was definitely not a dead body. Kurt had been missing for a century. If he were dead, his body would have been a nearly disintegrating skeleton by now.

Why a pale hand?

Blaine gathered his courage and finished crossing the distance to the bay window. What his flashlight revealed nearly had him jumping out of his skin.

It was Kurt all right. He recognized him from the picture. But…his skin was not real skin. A close look revealed that he seemed to be made of porcelain, almost like a life-size China doll. His lips were slightly parted and his eyes were wide. There was no mistaking the expression being one of fear. His hair, though covered in dust much like the rest of him, as he had obviously been gathering it over the years, still appeared soft and perfectly coifed. How could it stay in that one style for so long?

But perhaps the most frightening feature of all was the evidence of tear tracks down his porcelain cheeks. They seemed almost…fresh, as though this doll Kurt had been recently crying.

Blaine stared into the eyes, such a beautiful mix of blue, green, and gray, glasz he thought they were called. The whole spectacle was captivating. But the question was, what the hell had happened to Kurt?

If Blaine had thought this was strange, it was nothing compared to what happened next.

The boy knew now that he'd solved the mystery, he should leave it be and just go back to his room. But something within him seemed to scream that he could not just leave him here. He couldn't leave Kurt like this. Though honestly, the boy had no idea how to fix this. He hadn't even known it was possible for someone to be turned into a doll in the first place.

The sudden urge to touch this boy, this boy who Blaine was so captivated by. This boy whose picture he'd seen in that book and had automatically felt drawn to. This boy who would more than likely be dead in the present day if nothing had happened to him.

And it was that fact precisely that had Blaine in silent thanks. Had Kurt Hummel never had disappeared and gone on to live his life, he would have passed on before Blaine would have ever come to Dalton and he never would have had the chance to even know of him.

That was enough. Blaine slowly reached out with his free hand and brushed his thumb against the tear tracks on the doll's cheek. It pulled away wet and Blaine stared at it. That was until an odd light seemed to radiate from the doll. It was like Blaine's simple touch had activated something.

And then it happened.

Kurt blinked his eyes.

The flashlight in Blaine's hand dropped to the floor and the boy stumbled back several steps. He had to be seeing things. Dolls did not blink. But than, dolls did not cry either. And Kurt could not even be an ordinary doll. He had been a person once, a real human being. What the hell was going here?

Blaine felt torn between running from the attic and staying to see what happened. But he thought of that damn puppet sitting on his bed and he definitely did not like the idea of returning to it.

As he watched, the doll began to move. It's head cricking from one side to the other as though pulling out the kinks. And then, it turned its eyes on Blaine. The curly-haired boy didn't want to be sure but he thought he saw the doll's lips move.

"Who are you?" it asked. Blaine was momentarily floored, but not because this doll was suddenly moving and talking of its own accord – it had once been human. It was because of the voice that came out of the creature. The high angelic tone was like beautiful music. A beautiful voice to fit a beautiful person, er doll.

Blaine just gaped at him for several moments, swallowing hard. The doll did not seem to be pressing him answer but at the same time, his eyes begged for knowledge.

Blaine cleared his throat. "Um…my name is Blaine Anderson."

The doll just stared at him. "Blaine Anderson?" he asked. Blaine nodded. "But there is no Blaine Anderson at Dalton. Are you new?"

It was than that Blaine realized something. This boy must have no recollection that time had passed. He probably had no idea he'd spent the last one hundred years encased as a porcelain doll, sitting in an attic bay window.

Blaine swallowed again. Carefully, he crept forward and the doll's eyes widened.

"Are you Kurt Hummel?" he asked. The doll's eyes widened even more and it gave a shaky nod. "Kurt…" Blaine started trailing off. How the hell did you tell someone they'd been a doll for a century? Well, technically, a century plus one but that wasn't the point. "Kurt, what year is it?" he asked finally, kneeling in front of the boy.

With some difficulty, the doll fixed him with a frown. "It's 1911, everyone knows that."

Just as Blaine had suspected, the boy had no recollection of time passing. Blaine frowned now.

"I don't want you to freak out or anything Kurt," he started, biting his lips. Kurt jumped slightly at his phrasing, obviously not familiar with casual speak and Blaine hastened to rephrase the sentence. "I mean, I don't want to scare you," he said and Kurt just looked at him with an expression Blaine was pretty sure would pale his face if porcelain could turn any whiter. "But 1911 was one hundred and one years ago. This is the year 2012."

Blaine had tried to keep his voice gentle but all the same, he saw the fear mapped out over the doll's face. It was than that Kurt realized something very odd about himself and he looked down at his hands.

"Porcelain?" he asked in a shaky voice. "But…but…I'm not made of porcelain."

The curly-haired boy hadn't expected that Kurt didn't know what had happened to him. Hadn't he seen fear in the doll's face when he'd first found him?

"What's the last thing you remember Kurt?" he asked.

Kurt looked at him, his glassy eyes still seeming to pierce through Blaine's hazel ones. "Coming up to the attic with Stevie."

Blaine furrowed his brow. "Who is Stevie?" he asked.

For a moment, Kurt looked at him like he was crazy. "He's my puppet."

Oh dear God, the puppet had a name. Of course it had a name. How could Blaine think it didn't? It had been someone's possession and Blaine was quite sure that it was more than a puppet but he didn't think that Kurt knew that. He made a decision. He had to find a way to turn Kurt back into a human being.

But then a thought crossed his mind. If he succeeded in turning him back into a human being, would that make Kurt just vanish from the world? After all, if nothing had happened to him, he would have passed away by now.

On the other hand, was it possible that being turning into a doll had halted the boy's life and if Blaine turned him back into a human, he would just pick up where he left off? But this was a century into the future for Kurt. Maybe he wouldn't want to live in this strange new world. But if he did just pick up his life, he wouldn't have a choice. Blaine decided right than and there that he was going to help Kurt get used to 2012. He would help prepare him just in case.

"Can you walk?" Blaine asked. He expected a snappy retort because other than the fact that Kurt seemed to be encased in porcelain, he seemed perfectly fine.

Kurt looked at him for a moment. "I don't know. My legs feel incredibly stiff and I don't think I can bend my knees," he said. Blaine was taken aback. But then he had to use his had. Of course, if Kurt's whole body were made of porcelain, he wouldn't be able to bed his limbs. That was why when he turned his head, it was a very stiff movement, much like someone had placed a hand on his head and turned it for him, like a giant child playing with its doll.

Blaine thought for a moment. "Well, we have to get you out of this attic and cleaned up," he said. Kurt just looked at him. "Technically, I shouldn't be up here. I broke in."

"Broke in? What do you mean?" Kurt asked. "The attic is free territory for all students." Blaine shook his head.

"Not anymore," he said. "It's been locked and barricaded since the day you disappeared over a hundred years ago. No one's been up here since." Kurt stared at him with wide eyes.

"Disappeared?" he asked softly.

A sigh broke from Blaine's mouth and the boy pulled the photocopy of the story from his pocket and held it in front of Kurt's face so he could read it. Being a doll, his fingers wouldn't be able to flex and grip the paper and his elbow would not bend so he could hold it up for himself. Also, Blaine didn't think he could lower his head enough to stare at it if he set it in his lap. So he held it up for him.

Silence passed as Blaine watched Kurt reading the story, eyes growing wide the more he read.

"Well, they aren't far off," he scoffed when he reached the end. "Where did you get this?" he asked Blaine.

"It's in a book entitled _The History of Dalton Academy_. You can find it in the reference books in the school library. I was there to do research for a history assignment and I found the book. Intrigued, I opened it to a random page and that was what I found. I don't know why, but something in me knew I had to find out what happened to you."

Kurt just looked at him for a moment and than blinked his eyes. Well, at least the boy had blinkable eyes like some dolls did. "Why do you care?" he asked suddenly.

Blaine looked at him for a long moment before reaching up to pull the beanie off his head and run his hand through his disheveled curls, free from the gel helmet for the night. "Because Kurt, I'm gay too," he said quietly.

"Is it more appreciated now?" Kurt asked him, voice incredibly soft. Blaine looked at him and sighed.

"Not really in Ohio," he admitted. "But the country has come a long way in acceptance. San Francisco, California is known for its homosexual districts, the state of New York recently passed a law to make gay marriage legal. It's not the only state that allows homosexuals to legally marry. The world for us still isn't perfect but I guarantee you it's a lot better than 1911. Unfortunately, there will always be people who will shun us and hate us and call us sinners. But that's how the world is. And there are just going to be people like that for anyone."

Blaine hadn't meant it to be such a long-winded speech but he figured that the full out truth would be good for Kurt.

"And what about Dalton?" Kurt asked, voice still softly. Blaine offered him a gentle smile.

"Well, since you were here, Dalton has acquired a zero tolerance no-bullying policy. It's strictly enforced. Everyone is treated equally no matter who you are. And yes, it's still an all boys school."

Kurt looked at him, his eyes reading astound. It was like he had never expected anything like this to happen ever. Did that mean if he lived in Dalton now he would actually make friends? Did that mean people would want to talk to him and not shun him so much anymore? Did Blaine want to be his friend? Blaine obviously cared enough to break into the attic just to find out what happened to him. Maybe he did want to be his friend.

"Can…can you get me out of here?" he asked the curly-haired boy.

Blaine smiled and nodded. "Yes," he said quickly. "And when we get to my room, maybe you can figure out why your puppet suddenly turned up on my bed."

Kurt stared at him. Stevie had turned up on Blaine's bed? How? Obviously no one had seen the puppet either in sometime. Something odd was going on. He didn't have any idea what.

He didn't have any time to think about it though because Blaine was helping him stand, which was an awkward task given he could bend his legs. The curly-haired boy lifted one of the Kurt's arms and draped it over his shoulders, while wrapping his free hand around Kurt's waist. If a doll could blush, Kurt was pretty sure he would have right than.

Just as they were pulling away from the bay window, Blaine helping Kurt who was taking weird straight leg strides, Kurt thought of something.

"Blaine?" he asked. The boy looked at him.

"Yes Kurt?"

"How am I going to get down the stairs?"

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><p><strong>AN: And step one of our adventure officially begins! So reviewers I'm thinking that this story should have some Kurt flashbacks, what do you think? Like they can maybe be used to fill in the background of what exactly happened to Kurt and how he came to be turned into a porcelain doll. I'll let you know when I'm switching time periods. The past will be used to give answers and in the present, Blaine will be attempting to find a way to make Kurt human again. Review and let me know what you think, yeah? Happy reading!**


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: Hi guys! I couldn't help myself and decided to go ahead and write chapter two! The prospect of getting in flashback history was kind of fun. And then...as I was writing it, a rather interesting plot turn came to me so I figured why not go with the flow! This story will still be creepy given the fact that a lot will have to do with that puppet but he's not really an impact in this chapter. More with him later, I promise. But there's definitely going to be a scientific edge to it now. :) Just remember, this story is eventual Klaine so the romance category is a priority.**

**And again, thank you so much for all your support! Your reviews make me smile and keep me writing! Happy reading! Enjoy chapter two!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, this story may actually be, regardless of the unrealism but just about everything I write is unrealistic in one way or another. Oh and Glee would be the Klaine show. All Klaine, all the time!**

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><p><strong>December 1910<strong>

Kurt Hummel stared up at the school, fixing the uniform tie that graced the navy blue jacket with red piping and white uniform shirt he wore upon his slim figure. So this was Dalton Academy. This was the most prestigious school his father and stepmother had pulled every last penny for him to get a place in.

It was rare for anyone in these times to ever remarry but Kurt's biological mother had passed of a dreadful illness when he was only eight years of age. That had been back in 1902, the same year she'd given him Stevie for his birthday.

Stevie was a puppet, a very delicate wooden puppet and although he was now eight years old, he was still in mint condition. Kurt had always taken such good care of him. The puppet had been his favorite possession since the day his mother had given it to him. It was the last thing Elizabeth Hummel had given her son before that dreaded illness took her life and left a talented little boy without a mother.

For years, Kurt's father, Burt Hummel had fallen into a depression, choosing to dive head first into his work, which was rather very successful considering he worked with the automobile, which was still in the hey day of its invention. Burt was responsible for fixing any troubles people may have with their own automobiles. His business was doing well enough that he and Kurt were able to have a decent home and he even bought Kurt his very own automobile for his sixteenth birthday.

But it was Kurt who brought Burt out of his sadness surrounding his wife's death when at a meeting for parents, he had introduced him to the mother of a rather popular boy at his school, his intentions to get closer to this boy whose name was Finn Hudson.

Burt and Carole had been married just weeks before the present day and Finn was not Kurt's stepbrother, though Kurt no longer harbored the romantic feelings for the boy.

Again, Kurt fixed the tie. He took a deep breath and pulled Stevie from the back seat of his automobile. Closing both arms tightly around the puppet, Kurt stepped forward with his head held high.

Behind him, his father and stepbrother were just getting out of another automobile and proceeding to pull suitcases from the back.

Kurt paid his family no mind as he shifted Stevie into one arm and used his free hand to pull a neatly folded piece of paper from the pocket of his gray slacks.

_Dear Mr. Hummel,_

_We are pleased to accept and welcome you as a member of the Dalton student body. This short letter is to tell you where you might find your dorm. You will find the room key enclosed in the envelope. Currently, you are a single as the other side of the room is still unoccupied. You will find your room on the fourth floor. It is marked with a brass number reading 424._

_Thank you and we welcome you again. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to come and ask me._

_Sincerely,_

_Robert E. Staven_

_Headmaster Dalton Academy for boys._

A sigh fell from Kurt's lips as he looked over the letter. It was a nice gesture and he fully appreciated not having to go to the office for the information on his room. He quietly refolded the letter and pocketed it, switching his hand for the small brass key in his pocket.

Assured that he was prepared, Kurt entered the dorm building and proceeded to climb the three flights of stairs to the fourth floor. Why he had a room all the way at the top, he could not be sure but he figured that given most of the rooms were occupied, they had to give him what they could and he wasn't about to complain.

He passed a stocky looking boy with sandy-blonde hair on his way down the stairs. Kurt attempted a small smile but the boy gave him an odd look, eyeing the puppet in his arms.

The boy said nothing but Kurt didn't miss the fact that he increased his pace moving on down the stairs. The brunette sighed. Were people here going to shun him too?

As though reminding him of what he'd left behind at his old school, a dull ache went up his back. Kurt cringed.

"You all right Kurt?" asked a voice and the boy turned to see his father climbing the stairs behind him with a suitcase in each hand. Kurt swallowed, licked his lips, and nodded.

"Quite father," he said, cringing. Though he had grown up with this form of speaking Kurt did not applaud being so formal in speech. He did wish there was a much easier way that would seem more like the words would smoothly roll of the tongue. But regressing one's speech was seen as down right rude and Kurt was not rude by any many. He did have some witty comebacks for those who had tormented him.

Turning back around, Kurt continued to climb the stairs. Luckily, they met no on else on their way up. The boy was surprised to find that it was not difficult at all to locate room 424. Within minutes, he, his father, his stepbrother, and all his suitcases were standing in the room.

"Spacious," said Finn, looking around the double room. Kurt resisted the rude gesture of rolling his eyes and gave his head a nod instead. He set Stevie down comfortably on one of the empty beds.

"I suppose that this it. You two should head out. It's a long drive back home and I will be fine unpacking my things on my own," Kurt stated. Finn nodded and immediately left the room but Burt appeared hesitant. "Go," Kurt insisted. "I'll be fine," he added. Burt regarded him for a moment before affirming with a nod and following his stepson out of the room.

Kurt shut the door behind them and turned the lock, resting his back against it. So this was Dalton? Well, if that sandy-blonde haired boy was anything to go by, Kurt was willing to bet his life here was not going to be much different than it had been at his old school.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day 2012<strong>

After several attempts of trying to help Kurt walk down the narrow flight of stairs, Blaine had finally resolved to carry him. Despite apparently being made of porcelain and being taller than Blaine, Kurt proved to be rather light. It was still a bit of a tight fit since the stairway to the attic was very narrow, but with some difficult, they managed to make it to the bottom and Blaine set Kurt back on his feet, resuming the position of his arm around Kurt's waist and Kurt's arm draped over his shoulders.

He cautiously pushed open the door to the attic and looked both ways. The halls were clear. That was a relief.

As they stepped out into the hall, Blaine found himself locking his gaze on the door to his room. They just had to reach it and than they'd be home free. As a precaution, Blaine had left the door unlocked. Good thing too because there was no way he had time to pull out his key.

Keeping his ears open, Blaine slowly helped Kurt amble down the hallway.

He couldn't believe his luck when they reached his room without the chance of being caught and Blaine oddly leaned Kurt against the wall, feeling weird for doing that to a living breathing – wait was he breathing – creature. Did dolls need air?

The boy shook his head off and went to turn the knob. "Room 424? You're in room 424?" Kurt asked in a breathless voice, his words freezing Blaine.

"Um…yeah…why?" he asked, though he had a feeling that he knew the answer.

Kurt was staring that him with his glass eyes as wide as he could make them. "That's my room," he said quietly. Blaine wasn't surprised. He'd been expecting to hear that. After he'd found the puppet there that afternoon, he'd had a growing suspicion that there was some sort of connection.

But still, it could not prepare him for the strange turn of events that were about to take place.

"That's why you found Stevie," Kurt said quietly. Blaine looked at him for a moment. The doll boy had a point. Why else would the puppet have shown up in Blaine's room of all places? But then also, why now? Why after over a hundred years did the puppet turn up in Blaine's room out of the blue?

Blaine wondered if there was more to him finding that story than just some coincidence. No, that was silly. Fate worked in a lot of ways, but not in those kinds of ways, right?

He tried to push those thoughts from his head, returning to opening the door. He turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open, ready to help Kurt into the room. That was when it happened.

The moment the door was open a bright light seemed to force itself out of the room as though the sun had been hiding inside it. Blaine gasped and covered his eyes with his arm, reaching out with one hand to grab hold of Kurt's porcelain fingers. He didn't want to lose the doll now that he'd found him.

The blinding was intense and the next thing Blaine knew, he blacked out.

* * *

><p><strong>December 1910<strong>

"Blaine?" said a voice. The curly-haired boy blinked his eyes and looked up. He was lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling. What had happened? All Blaine could remember was opening the door to his dorm room, wanting to get the doll Kurt inside and then…

Oh no Kurt! Blaine shot up so fast he sent his head spinning. But it was only to see that the doll boy was bending over him looking concerned. Wait, bending? Kurt was a doll. He couldn't bend. Not on his own at least.

"Kurt?" Blaine muttered, hazel eyes going wide. That was when he noticed the difference. Kurt's glassy porcelain face was now smooth pale skin. His gorgeous eyes blinked, swirling the blue, green, and gray color within them. His lips were the most delicate shade of pink. His jaw was strong, matching to strong cheekbones. And a very light pink blush rose to his cheeks.

Kurt stuck out a hand and when Blaine took it, he found his own rough hand sliding into the comfort of one that was incredibly soft and warm. This wasn't a doll. This was a human. But what the hell had happened?

Blaine allowed Kurt to pull him to his feet before reluctantly letting go of the other boy's hand. Now at full height, he could tell that Kurt was taller than him. He was also no longer covered in dust. His gorgeous chestnut hair was styled to perfection and glistened in the sunlight shining through the window.

Wait, sunlight? Who ever heard of sunlight in the middle of the night?

"Kurt, where are we? And why are you…human?" More importantly, why did Kurt still remember Blaine?

Okay, why did that question enter his mind? It seemed like his own thoughts were picking up on what had happened as Blaine's eyes took in the room. It certainly wasn't his dorm room they were standing in, although the other bed was still unoccupied. But wait, this was Blaine's dorm room. He could feel it. But at the same time it wasn't. It looked completely different.

Kurt had wandered over to the desk on which sat a leather bound book. He picked it up and flipped it open, staring down at the page. Blaine watched him for several moments. What was he doing? Finally, Kurt turned back to Blaine with wide eyes.

"Blaine…didn't you say the year was 2012?" he asked quietly. Blaine swallowed and nodded.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, but I think the both of us have somehow traveled back in time," Kurt answered quietly.

Well hell. Someone tell Blaine he was either on the Twilight Zone, some weird science fiction movie, or merely that he was dreaming. How the hell could they have traveled back in time? And if that was true than that meant…they were in the room the way it was when it belonged to Kurt.

Blaine started pacing, hands running though his curls, the beanie sticking out of his back pocket. There had to be a reason they were here right? Oh God, what was going to happen back in 2012 when Blaine turned up missing?

The boy stopped. He swallowed hard. "Hell, I'm going to become a new Dalton legend." He stared at the door. For a moment, Blaine wondered if he could just step out of it and be right back in his own time. But something told him that was too easy. No, something had brought him here for a reason and he didn't think he'd be going home until he figured out and did what that was. But he realized he already knew what. He was here to help Kurt.

"Kurt," he whispered. The boy looked up at him. "Exactly what time is it? I mean year, month, that kind of thing, I don't care about the date." Kurt looked back down at the book he was holding.

"December 1910, the month and year I first transferred into Dalton." 1910. Kurt had disappeared in 1911. That meant they had at least a month, likely longer before they got to the point in time when Kurt had vanished.

"What was the date when you remember last taking Stevie up to the attic?" Blaine went on. Kurt furrowed his brow and for a moment Blaine feared that he wouldn't remember it. That would be plausible because being in December 1910, that day didn't exist yet. But Kurt remembered Blaine. He seemed to remember what had happened in the last twenty minutes or more at least. So why wouldn't he remember that date?

"April 27, 1911," Kurt finally said, straightening up and shutting the book. "Exactly one month before my seventeenth birthday," he added.

In the present, it was March 2012. That meant that if Blaine's theory of Kurt picking up his life when they fixed this turned out to be true, Kurt would be younger than him. He was currently seventeen.

Blaine pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it.

"What is that?" Kurt asked, eyes wide and Blaine suddenly remembered that Kurt had never heard of a cell phone. He'd disappeared years before they were invented.

Blaine smiled. "It's called a cell phone. It was invented years after your disappearance, in my lifetime. I was born in 1994."

Kurt's eyebrows went up so high Blaine thought they nearly disappeared into Kurt's hairline. "1994? Blaine, that's one hundred years after I was born." Blaine realized this meant that Kurt was born in 1894. For a moment, they both just stared at each other in amazement and then Kurt cleared his throat. "So, why do you have that?" he asked.

Blaine snapped out of his reverie. "Oh, I was hoping I might still be able to use it," he said. He frowned down at the phone, feeling stupid. This was 1910. Cell phones hadn't even been thought of yet. There wouldn't be in cell towers. He wouldn't get a signal. He thought hard for a moment. They needed outside help. And that was when an idea came to him.

"Blaine, you look like a light bulb just went off in your head," Kurt giggled. Blaine smiled at him.

"It kind of did. Get some paper and a pen out," he said. Kurt looked at him curiously before he did as Blaine asked. He handed the materials to Blaine and the curly-haired boy hastily started to scrawl out a message. When he was done, he looked back up at Kurt. "Room 321," he said. And Kurt inclined his head.

"Yes, what about it?" he asked.

Blaine took a breath. "There's a loose floorboard in there that's been there practically since the first occupant. In 2012, that room belongs to my friends Wes and David. David likes to hide snacks under the loose floorboard. I'm thinking we can get into the room and hide this under there. Than back in 2012, when David goes to open it next, he'll find the note," Blaine said.

Kurt looked at him for a moment. He was aware that there was a loose floorboard in room 321. He had heard the boys, Joseph Write and Patrick Anly telling their friends about it once. He glanced at the window, trying to gage what time of day it was.

"Well, Joseph and Patrick will probably be at breakfast right now. I suppose it couldn't hurt to slip in and put your note there. But how are we going to get in?" he asked.

"Leave that to me," Blaine said with a grin, pulling the pin he'd used on the attic lock out of his pants. He hastily folded the note and scrawled Wes and David's names across the top. "Let's go."

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day 2012<strong>

David Thompson turned over in his bed. The hour was late, the middle of the night. His stomach was growling and he was trying to ignore it the best that he could. But it was no use.

"David, shut your stomach up before I whack you with my pillow," Wes grumbled from his bed, his words drenched with incoherent sleep. David sighed and muttered an apology before slipping out of his bed and padding across the floor.

Wes cocked open one eye as he watched his best friend and roommate kneel on the floor. The Asian boy sat up and shook his head, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Honestly, why can't you just sneak down to the kitchens like any normal teenage boy here," he stated, folding his arms across his chest.

"Because that would mean breaking the rules Wesley," David replied, taking a hammer from its very convenient nook between the desk and the wall. He used the pointed end of the tool to pry up a loose floorboard where his snacks were stashed. They weren't really allowed to keep food in their rooms.

"And you aren't breaking one already by stashing that there?" Wes commented, raising a brow. For a moment, David thought about stealing his friend's gavel and hitting him over the head with it. But as he pulled a package of Oreos out of their hiding place, he noticed something on the floor of the little space that he knew definitely hadn't been there before.

Setting the cookies aside, David reached his hand back in and plucked the folded piece of paper out. "Hey Wes," he said in a confused but quiet voice. The reply was only a hum to show that the other boy was listening. "There's a note in here addressed to us."

That was enough to get Wes' curiosity. "What the hell David? I know that wasn't there the last time you opened that." David looked up at him, his eyes wide.

"That's not the strangest part Wes," he said. Wes looked at him. David carefully stood and approached Wes' bed, sitting down on the side of it and holding the note out to him. He'd forgotten all about his hunger by now. "It's Blaine's handwriting."

Well if things weren't strange enough yet, they were getting stranger. Wes snatched the noted from David's hand and quickly unfolded it. David glanced over his shoulder and the two boys read.

_Wes & David,_

_I will probably regret choosing you two later but I need your help. What I am about to tell you, is going to sound very, very odd and in no way likely to happen at all, but I assure you it's the truth. I've got a hunch about something and if I'm right, I can prove it to you if you do what I ask at the end of this letter._

_Remember how you caught me in the library and I hurried out on you? Well, I kind of lied. I had gone in there for research for my history project. Instead, I found a book about the history of Dalton. When you found me, I'd just run off a copy of a story from the legends chapter._

_It's about this boy named Kurt Hummel who disappeared after going up to the attic in 1911. Ever wonder why the attic is barricaded? Well, that's why, because of his disappearance._

_Anyway, I was intrigued – I don't know why – and I decided that I was going to find out what had happened to Kurt. You should see his picture. He's beautiful._

_Back on subject, I snuck out of bed and went to the attic. I know a bit about picking a lock and I was able to pick open the one holding the chains that barricaded the door. I went up. This is where the story get unbelievable so bare with me._

_I swear on my bottles and jars of hair gel I found Kurt. He wasn't dead and he wasn't extremely old. Something, no idea what, but something had turned him into a life-size porcelain doll. He was sitting in the bay window. I'm not kidding you._

_Upon close examination, I discovered the doll seemed to be crying, and the weirdest part, they were fresh tears. I reached out a hand and felt the wetness against my thumb when I touched the face. It gets weirder. Brace yourselves. Something about me touching him did something and the next thing I knew, the doll came to life. He was moving and talking._

_I made a decision right there. I had to figure out how this had happened to Kurt and I had to fix it. I wanted to make him human again._

_So, with some difficulty I helped him leave the attic and attempted to take him back to my room, which you're not going to believe, had actually been his room back in his time._

_Now for the strangest part of the story, it happened when I opened the door. I'd left it unlocked as a precaution. But the moment I turned the knob and pushed the door open, we were surrounding by a bright beam of light. I blacked out._

_When I came to, Kurt was standing over me and he didn't look like a doll anymore. I didn't think it could be that easy. It wasn't. It only took us moments to discover that we had somehow been transported back in time._

_I'm now currently in December 1910 and I have a feeling that I'm not going to get back to 2012 unless I successfully help Kurt and that means finding out the whole story. So here's where you guys come in. I can't do this alone. I need outside help._

_Okay, now remember my hunch and offer of proof? Here's what I want you to do. My dorm room is unlocked. I don't know if the door is open or shut, depends on whether it stayed open after whatever took us back in time happened. I want the two of you to go lock yourselves in my room. I know it sounds weird but trust me._

_If my hunch is right, with you guys in my room, which is also Kurt's, it should act as sort of a barrier transfer or something. Meaning I'm hoping that if you're in there, we can make contact. From there, if it works, I can give you tasks that you can only do from your side of the timeline._

_Please don't ask questions and just do this for me. I wouldn't have asked if you guys weren't honestly my best friends._

_Warblers Forever,_

_Blaine_

For a moment both boys just stared at the letter. Back in time? Missing boy a doll? What the hell? This was like something out of a science fiction movie! Wes and David were the most serious of all of Blaine's friends. So why did he ask them when he probably figured they'd be the least likely to believe him?

"Because we're the only ones that could actually do him any good with help," David whispered, answering the unasked question aloud. He and Wes exchanged looks and that was all it took to make up their minds.

Damn how crazy it sounded. Both boys jumped up and pulled on some decent clothes before David scooped up his Oreos and the two ran from the room, making a beeline up the stairs for room 424.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Ta da! What do you think? Didn't see that coming now did you? haha. I love time travel, lolol. Anyway, your reviews will make me smile so let me know what you thought! Also, I want voting now. Should Kurt get to continue his life where he left off after Blaine saves him and live happily ever after with Blaine in the present day? Or should they have to say good-bye when that happens and Blaine instead watches Kurt age rapidly and face the end of his life where it should have been because he had not been made a doll, Kurt would be gone by Blaine's time anyway. That's so sad. :( I don't know if I can write that kind of ending. But whatever you guys want to see more! So let me know! Happy reading!**


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Surprise! I have a chapter of this lovely story for you all! I know I haven't really been updating anything lately but I'm in the process of preparing for my cross-country move so I haven't had time for much of anything. Just bear with me. I leave on Monday and then I'll be on a train for four days. I'll do what I can but until I get settled, I can't promise anything else will get updates. I promise things will happen again as soon as possible. On another note, do enjoy chapter three of _Legends of Dalton Academy_! I may or may not try to update something else tonight. If so, it will probably be finishing chapter three of _May The Glee Be With You_ since that's partially done. Enough of my rambling! Enjoy this long awaited chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Guess what? I...still don't own Glee. *frowns* Oh well, would have been nice, yeah?**

* * *

><p><strong>December 1910<strong>

Blaine was now pacing the room, hands running ragged through his curly hair. He didn't know for sure if Wes and David were going to believe the note or not. Out of all his friends, they were the most serious and no-nonsense. It was likely they'd think the whole thing was a joke. Kurt was perched on his bed, legs delicately crossed, watching the curly-haired boy pacing back and forth.

"Blaine, I do believe you will bare a hole in the floor if you keep that up," the boy said, inclining his head slightly to one side.

The teenager couldn't help it. He looked over at the pale boy. God, why was Kurt so much more beautiful in human form? He stood there for a moment and just stared at him. He made up his mind right there. Even if Wes and David did not help him, he was going to save Kurt.

"Sorry," he said, dropping down onto the bed beside the other boy.

Kurt put a hand on his arm, suddenly slipping seemingly into a more comfortable air around this boy from the future. "Look Blaine, I know it's a lot to take in, but I want to thank you for wanting to try. Although, I don't have the slightest idea as to what happened."

Blaine looked at him for several long moments. "You read the story. It's speculated that it's the puppet's fault."

At his words, Kurt turned his head to stare over at a chair, upon which sat Stevie. Blaine hadn't noticed until then that the puppet was even in the room. He looked in mint condition. Completely up to date with all maintenance, but then Blaine had to remember, at this point in time, Stevie was only eight years old. Kurt obviously took good care of him.

"You really like that puppet don't you?" he asked softly.

A small smile graced Kurt's lips. "He means a lot to me," he said and Blaine didn't miss the hint of sadness in his voice.

"Oh?" was all he managed to say. Why did this creepy puppet mean so much?

Kurt sighed softly and looked back at Blaine. "My mom gave him to me for my eighth birthday. It was the last thing she ever gave me before she died later that year."

It suddenly all made sense to Blaine. "I'm so sorry Kurt," he whispered. Kurt smiled.

"It's fine, really."

Blaine wasn't sure what to make of the situation anymore. Suddenly, the meaning of why Kurt was so attached to the creepy puppet made so much more sense than it had before. Blaine was sure that if the other boys who attended Dalton when Kurt did had known that, they might have been more forthcoming. He realized then that Kurt was not some odd boy. He was merely misunderstood. Stevie's presence had provided an immediate wrong first impression for the other boys at Dalton Academy.

Suddenly, a sound like a door whipping shut met both boys' ears. Kurt jumped and gripped Blaine's arm just a bit tighter. Blaine didn't protest. He liked the idea of Kurt gripping his arm. It felt nice. _Damnit Anderson! Focus! It would be a hell of a disaster for you to develop feelings for him!_ Blaine scolded himself.

And then the familiar voice came.

"Blaine?"

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day 2012<strong>

"Blaine?" Wes said cautiously the minute David had shut and locked the door behind them. A part of him still found this rather weird. Looking around the room told Wes that Blaine most definitely was not in there. However, there was a creepy looking puppet sitting on Blaine's bed, wearing what looked defiantly like a smirk. Wes shuddered.

For a moment, no sound met his ears. He wondered if they had to make contact some other way and Blaine couldn't hear him.

But just as he was about to discuss this with David, he heard it. "Wes? Is that you?"

The Asian boy whipped his head around. There was no doubt in his mind that the voice was Blaine's but he couldn't see the boy anywhere. There was no way Blaine was in that room. He looked over at David who was staring at him wide-eyed.

"Blaine?" Wes repeated, swallowing the lump that had begun to form in his throat. "Blaine, where are you?" he asked.

"Sitting on the bed," came the reply. Wes immediately threw his eyes to Blaine's bed and then the unoccupied one.

"How? I can't see you," he said. A sound that was reminiscent of Blaine sighing met his ears.

"I told you. I'm in 1910." With Blaine sounding like he was in the room and there being no sign of him physically being there, Wes was starting to believe that everything his friend had said in that letter had been one hundred percent true. Again, he glanced at David, whose eyes were getting wider by the minute. "Is David with you?" Blaine asked suddenly.

"I'm here Blaine," David replied after a moment, surprised at how calm he sounded.

"Good," Blaine said. There was the sound of a slight cough and Wes and David looked around. "I want you two to meet someone, even though you can't see him," he said. Wes could practically hear the smile in the other boy's words. He glanced at David who gave him a knowing smirk.

"Oh?" Wes asked.

There was the sound of a giggle in an unfamiliar rather high-pitched sounding voice. It was followed shortly by Blaine's familiar chuckle.

"Hello," the unfamiliar voice said. Wes looked at David who stared back at him. "Pleasure to meet you both. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Kurt Hummel."

Silence surrounded the both of them and Wes and David didn't mistake the formality in the newcomer's voice. Kurt Hummel. The boy from 1911 Blaine had mentioned in the letter. They had to look this up as soon as they could get to the library the next day.

"I know what you two are thinking," Blaine said, breaking the silence. "Check under my bed."

Wes and David exchanged a slightly puzzled look before David shrugged and dropped to the floor. He lifted the comforter of Blaine's bed and saw a folded piece of paper. Pulling it out he unfolded it and flattened the paper.

"What is it Blaine?" he asked as Wes crossed to turn on the bedside lamp.

If they could see Blaine right then, they would probably see him rolling his eyes.

"It's the copy I ran off of the legend. I know you guys want to check out it out for yourselves, so I shoved it under Kurt's bed. I figured it would still be there on your side."

Wes furrowed his brow. "And how could you be so sure that no one else would have found it within the century difference?" he asked skeptically.

Well, that was a deadpan question. He wondered how in the world Blaine would have the answer.

* * *

><p><strong>December 1910<strong>

That was a good question. But Blaine suddenly realized he knew the answer. He didn't know how, he just did.

"Because I'm the first person to be put in that room since Kurt," he said quietly, looking over at the pale boy. A soft smile crossed Kurt's face for some odd reason and the boy lowered his head onto Blaine's shoulder, gripping his arm just a bit firmer.

Okay, forget not developing feelings for this boy. Blaine liked this too much. He smiled down at Kurt, who shut his eyes lazily and hummed in content. Blaine had the strange desire to kiss the boy on the top of his head. He refrained from it.

"How do you know that?" Wes' voice came, sounding surprised.

Blaine shrugged, though he knew Wes couldn't see him. "I don't know. I just do," he said. "And no one's been in the room since either."

He found that strange. If they were going to keep the room vacant of occupancy, wouldn't they have come in and cleaned it out? He suddenly realized how Stevie could have been in his room. He'd been left there. No one ever found him. It was obvious by the state in the present day that he hadn't been tended to in a very long time. But how he suddenly had come to be sitting on Blaine's bed when Blaine had never once come across the puppet in all his time there, Blaine still hadn't pinpointed.

"Wait a minute," came David's voice. "Kurt was a mid-year transfer?" he asked. Blaine nodded before remembering that they couldn't see him.

"Yes, why?" he questioned.

"Well, unless I'm greatly mistaken, you were the first mid-year transfer Dalton's had since early 1911," David replied.

Blaine looked down at Kurt again. The pale boy's eyes had popped open and he had lifted his head to stare up at the curly-haired boy in surprised. Why the hell had Dalton not gotten any other transfers since the one that had been Kurt's new roommate?

The seventeen year old furrowed his brow and racked his brain for a moment. "I remember something about after being accepted mid-year. I was supposed to meet a dorm advisor right away and they were to show me to my dorm." He paused and stared at Kurt for several moments. The other boy was hanging on his words.

"Go on," Wes said.

Blaine took a breath. "My parents were called and told to go to the front office instead. Apparently, there was an issue. When we got there, the principal," he was cut off by the odd look Kurt gave him. "That's what we call Headmaster's now, except in like, Europe," he explained. The pale boy nodded and lowered his head back onto Blaine's shoulder. Blaine subconsciously wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Come on Blaine, stop stalling!" David cried. Blaine chuckled lightly.

"Such impatience David," the boy said.

"If you were here in person I'd hit you with my gavel," Wes said shortly. Blaine laughed again.

"All right, calm down Wes." He took another breath. "The principal said they hadn't realized that they only had one room with a vacancy. Room 424. When my parents asked what was wrong with that, he said that there was some history attached to that room that may be very unpleasant for me to know and then have to stay in there so they tried not to assign students to that room if it could be helped." Blaine paused here and swallowed. He felt Kurt's hand give his arm a comforting squeezed and he suddenly felt better. "The principal apologized and told my parents he was sorry but unfortunately, they could not take me at Dalton at that time. I didn't want to go back to public school. I didn't want to go back to my personal hell." He heard Kurt's sharp intake of breath and spared the boy a glance.

"You were treated poorly at public school too?" Kurt asked quietly. Blaine nodded and then suddenly, not able to resist, he planted a gentle kiss on Kurt's forehead. Kurt looked up at him for a moment. Blaine was afraid he'd done something wrong. But then Kurt just smiled and snuggled back into him.

"We're still here Blaine," Wes stated in a rather irritated tone.

"Right," Blaine replied, snapping out his reverie. He sighed. "So, I took it upon myself to make sure I wouldn't have to."

"What did you do?" David asked.

A smile crossed Blaine's face. "I told the principal I didn't care and I'd take the room and pleaded with him not to make me have to go back to public school. It worked. He gave in and I got room 424."

Everyone was quiet for a moment. Blaine had always had his way of getting what he wanted. But who could say no to Blaine Anderson? He was damn dreamy. On more than one occasion, Wes had admitted to himself that he would have definitely been after Blaine if he had been into guys.

"Blaine?" came Kurt's voice suddenly. It was at that moment that Blaine noticed a sudden gust of very cold air. He glanced toward the window. Not only was it closed but also the morning didn't look like it held a bitter chill even though it was December in Ohio. "Why did it suddenly get cold?" Kurt went on. For a moment, no one seemed to know the answer to that. Then a voice that made Blaine's blood run cold pierced the air.

"What are you two doing in Blaine's room?"

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day 2012<strong>

"Sebastian!" Wes spat sharply. The meercat-faced boy was sitting in the window. The douche probably had the lankiness to sneak along the window ledge just outside. Wes knew it was bad news to put the boy in the room next to Blaine's. Just as much as he knew that Sebastian had been on campaign to have his room switched so that he could be Blaine's roommate. Everyone in the Warblers knew the boy was after Blaine.

Wes also knew that Blaine didn't like Sebastian like that. He wasn't interested in his sexual advances and was actually quite put off by him. Wes was sure that as long as Sebastian was in the room Blaine wouldn't say a word.

Ignoring the meercat's question he narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms.

"We could ask you the same thing!" David spat. Sebastian merely smirked, jumping down from the window with surprising ease.

"I'm here for a little midnight snack," he practically purred.

Wes and David looked at each other, both trying to keep the disgust from their faces. They could only imaged Blaine trying not to cry out in disgust. How they were going to be able to explain Blaine's voice with no Blaine, they had no idea.

"We were looking for Blaine," Wes replied sharply, unfolding his arms and dropping one to his pocket where the oval head of something was peaking over the rim.

"In the middle of the night Wesley?" Sebastian asked, still smirking. Wes frowned. He'd caught him. "Careful or I'll let everyone know that you should have graduated last year."

A sharp intake of breath filled the room. It came from neither Wes, nor David and certainly not Sebastian. The meercat boy frowned.

"Is someone else in this room?" A slight slapping sound indicated that someone was clapping a hand to his or her mouth. Wes glared at Sebastian, furrowing his brow. The boy liked to run rumors. Or get his facts wrong. It was true that Wes, who was eighteen, almost nineteen and would be nineteen by the time he graduated at the end of the year, should have graduated a year earlier.

"I'm assuming you're under the impression that I was held back when I was younger," Sebastian smirked still. "I've been in private school all my life Smythe. I started a year later than most public school kids would."

He was pleased to find that Sebastian seemed disappointed. It was common knowledge that the boy would do anything to overtake control of the Warblers. But with Wes and David on the council, that was not going to happen anytime soon. Though Wes wouldn't admit it, he was pretty sure that one of Sebastian's first new rules was that Blaine had to be his arm candy or something. God knew how badly Sebastian wanted to get into Blaine's pants.

David cleared his throat. "Obviously, Blaine isn't here so we're going to go look for him. You better go back to your room Sebastian or I will alert dorm staff that you're sneaking along unsafe ledges."

Sebastian scowled. "This isn't over!" he spat before sliding back out the window and onto the ledge. "Blaine will be mine one day, mark my words. And then, you'll all be sorry!" he let off some maniacal laughter before slipping out of sight.

"Over my dead body I'll be his!" Blaine spat out in a huff as soon as Sebastian had disappeared and Wes and shut the window.

"Who was that?" Kurt asked in a rather quiet voice. He sounded somewhat shaken. It was Wes who replied.

"That's Sebastian Smythe. He's been trying to get in Blaine's pants ever since he came to Dalton earlier this year. Blaine hates him. He's a sleazebag. I'm still mad that I had to let him into the Warblers. I had to give him the fairness I give anyone else and it's true the boy can sing," he said.

There was a whimper and Wes and David looked at each other.

"Listen Blaine," David started after a moment. "It's really late, still the middle of the night. Wes and I will come back later, promise. But we should really be going and getting some sleep."

It was a moment before they heard Blaine's reply. "Yeah, sounds good. Sorry about the odd hour. It's actually the morning hours in 1910 right now. Talk to you guys again soon and then I promise we'll get things underway better."

"Bye Blaine!" both boys said. "Bye Kurt!"

"Good-bye," Kurt practically whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>December 1910<strong>

Blaine looked down at Kurt after he heard the door shutting in the present day. The pale boy appeared distraught. "Hey," he whispered. Kurt looked up at him. "Don't worry. Sebastian means nothing to me. I can't stand him," he said. A soft smile crossed Kurt's face. Wait, why did Blaine suddenly feel it was obligatory for him to tell Kurt that?

"So, you don't have a boyfriend?" the pale boy asked, biting his lip.

"No," Blaine said, smiling down at him. Kurt immediately brightened. But after another moment, his face fell. "What's wrong?"

"Stevie," Kurt said suddenly and Blaine gave him an odd look. "I know people think I don't realize anything about him but, he has a tendency to um…make things happen. Not very good things," he said and Blaine frowned at him.

Had he known what he was going to learn when morning came in 2012 then, he might have been a lot more worried than what he was.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Don't hate me for leaving you with a cliff-hanger! I got to give you something that will keep you pining for the next chapter! If you're all good and leave me at least 5 reviews for this, I might just try and give you an answer before I leave. But only if you're good. I had to explain Wes' still being in school somehow because partway through the chapter, I realized he would have graduated the year before this takes place. And warning, I hate Sebastian. I'm honestly thinking that his turn around is only temporary. It was too big a difference to not be. O.O Anyway, reviews make me smile! Oh and the vote question from last chapter still stands! Do you want Kurt to grow up in the present day at the end and live happily ever after with Blaine, or should time catch up to him and he withers away and dies? I don't have the strength to write him dying I don't think but I'd like to know what you think! Happy reading!**


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